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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048391">Names (or Scar's Worst Nightmare) (or, No, you can't die for someone platonically)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuestPlease/pseuds/GuestPlease'>GuestPlease</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Scar's Adventures Five Years Later [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood &amp; Manga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Everybody's at a Royai wedding, Everyone is a dork, Except General Armstrong, F/M, Gen, Other characters get shoutouts and cameos, Overprotective Dad Scar, Overprotective Husband Edward Elric, Scar also doesn't like small talk, Scar backstory, Scar doesn't like using people's names, Worldbuilding, that's so INTIMATE</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:01:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuestPlease/pseuds/GuestPlease</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Scar, very unfortunately, has been told to go to the Flame Alchemist's wedding. </p><p>He's going to have to <em>mingle</em>. At least some of his not-friends are there, and he can catch up with his not-daughter. </p><p>Weddings are supposed to be a time of joy... right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell, Lan Fan/Ling Yao, Mei Chan | May Chang &amp; Scar, Mei Chan | May Chang/Alphonse Elric, Miles &amp; Scar (Fullmetal Alchemist), Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang, Tim Marcoh &amp; Scar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Scar's Adventures Five Years Later [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Behold the Sacred Texts, Don’t Forget These Fics, FMAB Family</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Names (or Scar's Worst Nightmare) (or, No, you can't die for someone platonically)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Scar—well, that wasn’t really his name anymore, but it was as good as anything else—was used to diplomatic things. Or, really, he was used to compromises trying to be pushed on him by not-really-guilty Amestrians, and overcompensatingly-guilty Amestrians, and having to be a reasonable adult about all of it. He was also used to having to go to these functions—especially when Miles said they had to. (Miles was only marginally better about not losing his temper. Not that they were both bad, but neither Briggs nor Ishval during the war were places of <em>courtesy</em>.<em>) </em>Especially <em>especially</em> when Miles’ boss (because she wasn’t Scar’s boss, she was just <em>very scary</em>) who-technically-wasn’t-his-boss-anymore-but-it’s-not-like-that-ever-mattered-to-Briggs-people said they had to.</p><p>On the morning in question, Miles tossed an open letter onto Scar’s desk in their shared office. “We’re supposed to go to a wedding.”<br/>
“What kind of wedding?” Scar asked, looking at Miles instead of the letter.<br/>
“Rich Amestrians.” Miles admitted. “Military folks.”</p><p>Scar glared. “Absolutely not.” He was going to be passed around like a zoo exhibit. <em>Look, we have the infamous Scar here! Don’t get too close, darling! </em><br/>
“Aren’t you the one that said weddings are a time of joy and coming together?” Miles asked.<br/>
And yes, he had said that. That was different. That was when he had been officiating (because really, where was another monk trained in the ways of Ishvala close enough to their rebuilding efforts to officiate for Neema and Amsu?) for friends. They were refugees, rebuilding a life together from ashes. And they had <em>asked</em> him because they’d been too young to truly remember the traditions of relatives from before the genocide. They had asked <em>him</em>, regardless of all the blood on his hands. (He hadn’t cried at the wedding. He had waited until he was back at the office.)</p><p>“I’m not going to a military wedding.” Scar snarled.<br/>
“General Armstrong already told them you would.”<br/>
Well. She’d probably hunt him down and make him miserable.<br/>
“…alright, it’s not like she suffers fools gladly.” Scar said.<br/>
“And they’re personal friends of hers.” Miles continued.</p><p>Scar looked at him, waiting for an explanation.<br/>
“If you go to the Flame Alchemist’s wedding, will you kill him?” Miles asked, far too serious for a stupid joke.<br/>
“…no.” Scar said, because that wouldn’t help anything now. Well, at least he wouldn’t be gawped at. The Flame Alchemist actually backed up his words with actions.<br/>
“I’ll get a wedding present for us both then.” Miles said, passing by Scar’s shoulder to give a squeeze. <em>I’m proud of you</em>.</p><p>Scar didn’t respond, because his mind was preoccupied. <em>Fuck</em>, he was going to not just do small talk, but <em>political</em> small talk. Disgusting.</p><p>Several weeks later, Miles and Scar followed the Armstrong delegation (a whole <em>family</em> of incredibly strong, scary Amestrians…) into a huge hall. Apparently, there had been a small ceremony for friends and family, and the reception was here.<br/>
“So who’s the Flame Alchemist remarrying?” Scar muttered to Miles in Ishvalan.<br/>
“What? This is his first marriage.”</p><p>“…that can’t be right. Wasn’t he married to the Hawk’s Eye?”<br/>
“Yeah, about ten minutes ago according to the General.”<br/>
“…you mean they <em>weren’t</em> married during that Promised Day business?”<br/>
“Nope.”</p><p>“…you’re sure.”<br/>
“Yep.”<br/>
“Next you’ll tell me that boy who had Greed in him and the girl with the metal arm aren’t married either.” Scar nodded over to the Xingese delegation—good Lord, why was it so big? Why was there so much yellow silk?—and Miles looked over as well. “No, that’s next month.”<br/>
“I thought the Emperor of Xing was getting married next month?” And wasn’t <em>that</em> a headache to look forward to?</p><p>“Yeah, that’s him.” Miles said.<br/>
“…what?”<br/>
“Stop gossiping like a pair of old women.” The general scolded in perfect Ishvalan.<br/>
Scar and Miles both jumped.<br/>
“When did you learn Ishvalan?” Miles asked in Amestrian.</p><p>“When I decided to.” The general said, slamming her scabbard into the floor. “Quiet, I can hear them coming.”<br/>
Indeed, there was a sound of… was that sobbing? Well, it was getting louder, regardless.<br/>
And then a beaming Hawk’s Eye walked in on the arm of an equally happy Flame Alchemist, followed by the <em>Fuhrer of Amestris</em>, several men, including one who was breaking the building’s smoking code with a woman whose dark hair was pulled into pretty curls framing her face, the little Rockbell girl—who was pregnant?!—on the Fullmetal Alchemist’s arm, followed by the brother who was no longer a suit of armor, and finally a sobbing, hulking man.</p><p>“Major Armstrong.” Miles muttered to Scar out of the corner of his mouth. (He knew who Major Armstrong was, but this seemed the wrong place to mention that he’d once tried to fight him to the death.)<br/>
Scar was <em>very</em> sure that the sobbing-at-a-wedding-thing was a façade so he’d let down his guard. Which he wouldn’t, not near any Armstrong. They were too scary for that—the youngest once lifted his desk easily because there was a mouse that she was scared of, and she wanted him to get it. His desk had been bolted to the floor.</p><p>“…Fullmetal and the Rockbell girl are married, yes?” Scar asked softly in Ishvalan, because Amestrians had <em>that</em> much decency, yes? Admittedly, he had no place to talk, having murdered her parents, but surely the young woman hadn’t been left, pregnant, alone?<br/>
“Private ceremony, several months ago.” Miles muttered back. “He dotes on her, according to the General, who heard it from the Major.”  <br/>
General Armstrong slammed her sword (thankfully still sheathed) into Miles’ foot. “Let’s hear it for the happy couple!” She called loudly (in Scar’s ear, which was uncalled for) in Amestrian.</p><p>Everyone in the room started cheering. Someone raised a party popper, which the person next to them thankfully took away. No sounds like gunshots at a sniper’s wedding, even Scar knew that much.<br/>
Then the Flame Alchemist tore his eyes away from his wife for a minute to say, “Thank you all for coming—now, let’s get to it!”</p><p>Short, sweet, simple. Scar could respect that. (He also kind of wanted to stop having to look at the Flame Alchemist and the Hawk’s Eye, because they looked like they were parched in the desert and had finally found water with each other. It wasn’t <em>decent</em> with this many people here.)</p><p>Now the real nightmare started. <em>Mingling</em>. Music started up, and people grouped around little tables. Miles promptly abandoned him to go talk to the scary general, against all reason.<br/>
“Alphonse!” He heard someone shriek, and then a girl—that could <em>not</em> be little Mei Chang, no way—ran from the Xingese delegation and tackled the Elric that was once actually made of metal.</p><p>“Hey, Mei.” The not-fullmetal Elric boy said, clearly surprised.<br/>
“Watch it, you could have knocked over Winry!” Fullmetal snapped.<br/>
“Ed, she was three feet away from me.” The Rockbell—Elric now, he guessed?—girl sighed.<br/>
“Three feet too close!” Fullmetal grumped. “You’re having a <em>baby</em>—people can’t be <em>throwing themselves around</em> near you! Come on, let’s go sit down…”</p><p>The no-longer-Rockbell’s eye twitched, but she let her husband lead her away and sit her down in a corner where he supplied her with enough food and drink to feed a platoon. Scar was not sure if she’d asked for it, to be honest, but that wasn’t the point now.</p><p>Mei was now a few years older, like everyone else. And that hurt his heart a little, because while he had had no part in her joining them, he tolerated her more than most children. …alright, he thought of her as a daughter, kind of, by the end. <em>Kind of</em>. And she had kept writing to him. He hadn’t realized that she was <em>a young lady </em>now. (It had only been five years! <em>She was only 17</em>!) She was beginning to become a young woman, and he knew that young men—such as this boy—got <em>urges</em>. Hell, the man’s older brother had gotten a woman pregnant!</p><p>So, he loomed, while Mei and the boy picked themselves up.<br/>
“What are you doing here?” The boy asked—far too happy, and with a lingering hand touch! How dare he!<br/>
“Since I saved Miss Riza’s life on the Promised Day, she invited me along with my brother.” Mei said.<br/>
Okay, he would have to loom more openly.</p><p>“Elric.” He ground out, moving out of the shadows.<br/>
Mei lit up upon seeing him. “Baba! You’re here!”<br/>
<em>Baba</em>? He knew she had an actual father—the Elric didn’t even have the grace to look <em>shocked</em> upon the nickname! She gave him a quick hug, and he patted her back, and glared at the Elric boy, who smiled back. The glare deepened.</p><p>“I suppose the Hawk’s Eye also credited me with… saving them… that day.” Scar ground out. The Flame Alchemist being a monster wasn’t his business, and it wasn’t the place to mention that freak out towards Envy. The Hawk’s Eye had thanked him, but that wasn’t—it wasn’t him that did it. It was the Fullmetal Alchemist, and really, it was her saying she’d kill herself after she killed him. <em>And they weren’t married for that? </em></p><p>Mei did not ask questions, and simply beamed at him, before stepping back and taking the Elric boy’s hand. “Baba, have you met Alphonse?”<br/>
“I once blew him up.” Scar said as a response.<br/>
Mei laughed. “No, with this body!”<br/>
Ah, yes, this body. The one with <em>improper urges</em> towards Scar’s not-daughter. At least the other one didn’t have… <em>an instrument of impropriety.</em><br/>
“I haven’t had the pleasure.” Scar huffed.</p><p>“Mei’s been teaching me alkahestry. I’d love to see your brother’s notes again, if I may? I think he may have had many more things to teach us all with the fusion of the two.” Alphonse smiled, and it looked like the sun. Scar decided that he now did not like the sun. The moon was better.<br/>
“I’ll think about it.” Scar huffed.<br/>
“Thank you, Baba!” It was far, <em>far</em> too late to correct her. But, she was smiling at him now, so that was good. (The boy could live for now.)</p><p>“Where’s your cat?” Scar said, specifically calling Xiao Mei by the wrong name too make everyone stop smiling and calling him Baba.<br/>
As if on cue, it popped out of Alphonse’s pocket. So, they’d been close enough for the panda to get transferred, eh? At the first sign of <em>thoughts</em>, he was hauling the boy out on his ass.<br/>
The panda shot Scar a long look, then disappeared again.<br/>
“I’m so glad you’re both here! Baba, I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mei said. “And Ling! Ling wants to see you too! You’re both coming to his wedding, right?”</p><p>“Why would he want to see me?” Scar asked gruffly as his not-daughter pulled him along. He saw Miles in the crowd and sent him a look that said <em>help</em>, but the bastard only turned back to General Armstrong. Oh, he’d get him for this. He’d ‘accidentally’ wake up Miles for a week, see if he wouldn’t!<br/>
“He wants to meet my Baba!” Mei said.<br/>
“Not your father.” Scar muttered gruffly.</p><p>“Well, yeah, <em>obviously</em> you’re not his Imperial Highness.” Mei scoffed. “You’re better.”<br/>
He did not protest as Mei led him over to the no-longer-Greed boy. Somewhere along the way, the sunshiney Elric slipped off, presumably to rescue his brother before his sister-in-law murdered him. He sent a glare around for good measure.</p><p>“Ah, you’re Mei’s Ishvalan!” A young man popped up at his elbow. “She’s told us a lot about you.”<br/>
This was the current emperor.<br/>
“Your Majesty.” Scar said, with a little bow.<br/>
“Ling! Don’t embarrass me!” Mei squawked.<br/>
The Emperor of Xing ruffled Mei’s hair, and she gave a wail – “nooo, don’t ruin it!” – while he and Scar eyed each other.</p><p>Scar then decided that he couldn’t always be there to protect her, and covered her ears before mentioning to her brother, “Young men get <em>urges</em>.”<br/>
“Excuse me?” The Emperor of Xing frowned.<br/>
“Young men might decide to act inappropriately with a young lady such as your sister, and it is your duty to protect her.” Scar told the son of the Heavenly Emperor, dragon of Xing, et cetera et cetera.</p><p>“What are you telling him?!” Mei hissed, trying to free herself.<br/>
“Why not tell my sister?” The Emperor cocked his head.<br/>
Scar glared. “It is not up to a woman to have to deal with a man’s advances. It is not her fault if he cannot control himself.”<br/>
The Emperor beamed at him. “I see why she likes you. Who are you worried about, anyway?”</p><p>“The Elric boy.”<br/>
“Al? Oh, he’s a good boy.” The Emperor’s smile grew a little sharp, and Scar realized he had most definitely found a kindred spirit in terms of protecting Mei.<br/>
“I look forward to your wedding.” Scar said, finally releasing Mei.</p><p>Gone was the sharp smile of a man who would protect his sister at all costs. Instead, he gained a lovestruck grin. “Can you believe Lan Fan and I are <em>finally</em> getting married?”<br/>
Scar stayed for a few minutes listening to the virtues of the future Empress, wherein Mei grew bored, and left. He eventually slipped away as well, having realized that the Emperor was rhapsodizing to essentially the entire room.</p><p>Unfortunately, this left an opening for Fullmetal. Within minutes, the two young men were trying to outdo one another regarding the virtues of their chosen partners.<br/>
“Lan Fan gave her left arm for me!”<br/>
“Winry <em>made</em> me a right arm!”</p><p>Said wife of Fullmetal had taken his disappearance to make a bid for freedom, and was now currently standing and talking to the bride and groom. What horror.<br/>
Or rather, she was talking to the bride, and a woman with green eyes and an identical daughter. The Flame Alchemist finally detached himself from his wife and practically glided over into the wife-off. (At least the Hawk’s Eye looked as exasperated as Scar felt at the addition of the Flame Alchemist.)<br/>
“<em>My</em> wife’s the best!” The Flame Alchemist said. “She can take down a sparrow with a single arrow!”</p><p>“Ha, so can Lan Fan!”<br/>
“Winry doesn’t <em>need</em> to shoot something!” Fullmetal squawked.<br/>
The green eyed woman with the daughter looked as though she had been walking over to intercede, but had intelligently turned on her heel and left.</p><p>Scar decided that this had nothing to do with him, and turned to the tables groaning with food. Specifically, he made a run for the non-alcoholic fruit punch before Fullmetal remembered that he needed to ply his wife with food and drink that she didn’t want. Drink secured (and yes, he did drain a cup right there, but he didn’t trust Fullmetal to realize that something that the wife could drink was potentially being lost) he began to mingle again.</p><p>Specifically, he stationed himself at a corner of the room with an enormous man who looked like a bear, and a self-described housewife, and nodded as they explained why they were there. (The woman was a sacrifice on the Promised Day. She had made sure the Flame Alchemist hadn’t tripped over himself once blinded.)<br/>
“In your opinion, do you think that there should have been more women to commit the ultimate sin of human transmutation?” Scar asked. People liked those kind of questions.</p><p>The sacrifice woman found this <em>hilarious</em> which wasn’t really the reaction he usually got when he asked provoking questions about gender.<br/>
“Well, I wish there had been less Elrics for one, but I suppose it’s anyone’s game.” The sacrifice woman chuckled. “Ah, thanks for that. I haven’t laughed that hard in years!”<br/>
Scar sipped his punch and waited for the ordeal to be over.</p><p>“Oh yeah?! Well, Hawkeye—”<br/>
“Will you three <em>shut up</em> and stop comparing us like we’re sheep at the festival?!” The former Rockbell girl finally exploded. “Yes! We get it! You’re all proud of your wives! You’re so fucking proud that you’re over here comparing notes—and for what?! What fucking prize do you win if the other two, against all logic, admit that you ‘won’? It’s stupid, and it’s pissing me off, let alone Riza! …I mean, I can’t really speak for you, Lan Fan, but I assume you’re pissed too.”</p><p>“My duty is to the Emperor.” The future Empress said in a monotone.<br/>
By the way that the Emperor cringed, she was also in agreement.<br/>
“Winry…” Fullmetal tried.<br/>
Scar sipped his punch and waited for Fullmetal’s very pregnant wife to do something else.<br/>
“You’re ruining Riza and Mustang’s wedding!” Ah, she was crying now. Right, time for Scar to solve all of this.</p><p>He tossed the rest of his punch back like a shot, then put down the glass. He scanned the room. He needed to find someone to dance with, so people would <em>look</em>—<em>honey, do you see the infamous criminal Scar DANCING? </em>– but not someone that would get him yelled at by General Armstrong. So he needed to not be inside his comfort zone (this would be so much easier if he could just ask Miles to dance with him as a brother in arms, but there weren’t enough people who knew how to do that here. It would just look <em>stupid</em> if two men alone tried to do a <em>group dance</em>) and he needed to draw attention away from Mrs. Fullmetal.</p><p>Right. Fine. This should be easy.<br/>
…this was not easy. He most definitely could not dance with the Hawk’s Eye. The General scared him. Well, they were both out of his comfort zone, but… not like that. The General had sisters! …one of whom was literally named Strongine. (He assumed that one in particular could crush him like he was <em>nothing</em>.)<br/>
“Mrs. Curtis, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” Scar finally asked, because she was right there.</p><p>“No thanks.” Mrs. Curtis said, instead leading her big bear husband onto the dancefloor.<br/>
Left to his own devices, Scar more or less ran around the room asking women to dance with him. The green-eyed woman with the daughter said no. The rather… robust looking woman (wasn’t she a bar proprietor of some sort?) had made an innuendo, and Scar had blushed in front of <em>everybody</em>. He eventually ended up dancing with the little green-eyed girl on his shoes, since her father was unfortunately Very Dead, and Mei was dancing with The Boy (and too tall now for dancing on shoes).</p><p>And thankfully, no one was looking at the crying Mrs. Elric-formerly-Rockbell. She gave a little sob, and then Miles was delegating everything, and somehow, Amestrians were learning the <em>chorus nuptias</em>. In minutes. The music picked up, and everyone started whirling around, almost in sync. It was… really good for people who hadn’t known it previously. Partners passed through Scar’s hands like water. Smiling, laughing people surrounded him.</p><p>And… it was good. By the time the dance was finished, Mrs. Elric had been returned to her prison in the corner, and Scar was back in his own little area. Self-contained. That was about when Marcoh approached him. “Hello, Scar.”<br/>
Scar raised his punch glass. “Doctor.”<br/>
“How’ve you been?”</p><p>“Busy. You?”<br/>
Aghh he hated small talk. What to say? ‘Sorry I destroyed your face and made you look like the hunchback of Liore Cathedral, I decided to forgive you for your part in the destruction of my people, but still kind of wanted you to suffer like me’?<br/>
“Ever thought about getting married?” Marcoh asked, because he was That Kind of Person at Weddings.<br/>
Scar choked on his punch. “I’m a monk.”</p><p>“You weren’t always.”<br/>
“What about you?” Scar coughed out.<br/>
“My wife died years ago.” Marcoh said softly. “Before Ishval.”<br/>
“Oh.”<br/>
“You never answered me.”</p><p>Scar looked at his glass. “…when I was fifteen, my brother had a girlfriend. Her name was… well, she’s been laid to dust now, may Ishvala keep her. She was gorgeous, and when she danced, she was like the wind. She was kind, and I… I loved her. As much as a child could. She and my brother eventually drifted apart, and I… when I saw her walking by, in the moonlight, I rushed outside. I spoke of my love for her, begged her to wait for me. She didn’t laugh, but she did tell me that it couldn’t be.”</p><p>“What reason did she give?”<br/>
“…she said, it’d be a grave insult to my brother. It was smart. I’d never betray him, and she knew it. It was kind of her, not telling me it was because I was a boy and she was a woman. I asked for a kiss, because I was young, and stupid, and I thought one kiss would let her see that we were meant to be together.” Scar tapped his cheekbone. “She kissed me here. And then she was gone. She married within the next two years, and I devoted myself to Ishvala. She had a little girl while I was training. The daughter was about three in 1902.”</p><p>Because it was easier than saying what <em>happened</em> in 1902, even though everyone knew. 1902 was about the start of it all. Chione hadn’t died in 1902, no, she had passed in 1905. And that hadn’t been alchemists and snipers killing from afar. Killing <em>quickly</em>—that’s the only reason he could stand these people. Chione had died to infantrymen—more accurately, she had died a slow death that they hadn’t been able to stop. Chione’s death—her daughter’s death—wasn’t something to talk about at a wedding.<br/>
Besides, he had long since hunted down the men responsible, their commanding officer, and anyone else to blame, before even going after the State Alchemists.</p><p>Dr. Marcoh was silent for a minute. “You know, I never learned your real name.”<br/>
“You never even learned my family name.” Family names were different. You <em>had</em> to use them. Names, though, <em>real</em> names… those were only for people who truly knew you, truly loved you. They were sacred, and special, and belonged to Ishvala when they died, because of Their love for Their people. He could call his not-daughter Mei. He was slowly working up to calling Miles Bakari. He could call his friends, his hope for the future of Ishval, Neema and Amsu. That was all the love he had for right now.</p><p>“You can call me Tim?”<br/>
Scar looked at Marcoh impassively. “If you’re fishing for my name, I lost it years ago. That man died. Technically, Scar died too.”<br/>
“So who are you now?”<br/>
“General Armstrong calls me ‘Ishvalan’.”<br/>
“What do normal people call you?”</p><p>Scar considered this. “Major Miles calls me brother. Mei calls me Baba. Ishvalan friends call me Master Ini-Herit. It’s… a title, after one of the old masters of the monastery. Most Amestrians call me ‘sir’. ‘Sir, would you like more coffee? Sir, would you like to sit down?’ I don’t care, as long as it’s not fucking <em>sir</em>.”</p><p>“Master Ini-Herit?” Marcoh tried.<br/>
Scar nodded slowly. “If you want.”<br/>
There was a nice, comfortable pause, before Marcoh asked, “So what is your family name?”<br/>
“Elmahdy.”<br/>
“…doesn’t that mean ‘the rightly guided one’?”</p><p>“No, it means, ‘mind your own business’.” Scar snapped. (It did mean the ‘rightly guided one’. His father had been very proud of that.)<br/>
“Hmm, I think that’s what ‘Marcoh’ means too.” Marcoh laughed.<br/>
Scar did not smile, because that would have encouraged Marcoh.</p><p>Eventually, Marcoh wandered off, and Scar decided to do a Nice Thing. It would probably be unappreciated, but whatever. He’d be the bigger person.<br/>
He swiped some clean cloth napkins from a pile, and left some cens as repayment. Then he borrowed a kunai off of Mei, and, while she watched, drew sigils on the napkin scraps with some punch. Then Mei more or less bullied the Elric boy into turning the punch into fabric dye, the underlying fibres rearranged into stitches for permanence, and the cuts in the fabric sealed off to prevent fraying.</p><p>He handed the first one to the Elric boy. “This is for your sister in law. It’s supposed to protect the holder and her baby in childbirth, and make it swift and less painful.”<br/>
“Oh, thank you. Don’t you want to give it to Winry yourself?” The boy studied the sigil—which was a Good Thing, not a beastly alchemic circle.<br/>
Scar gave the Elric boy a Look. “Would you want your parents’ murderer giving you an Ishvalan charm?”<br/>
“My mom died of a plague, so… not really?” The boy tried.</p><p>Scar’s glare intensified.<br/>
The boy smiled back.<br/>
Mei finally interrupted the silence. “Baba, is there anything you’d want Alphonse to say to Winry?”<br/>
Oh, it was <em>Winry</em> now from Mei? Not <em>thieving hussy</em>? (Oh, yes, he remembered that.)<br/>
“Tell the Rockbell girl that it is a charm for expecting mothers. She’s supposed to clutch it during the birth, and then… I don’t know what happens to it afterward. Some women made it into pillows for their babies, I guess? I think some women reused them. I don’t know, it’s up to her, but the point is to have the charm to help… protect.” Scar said vaguely.</p><p>Al smiled, and walked away.<br/>
“He’s going to repeat that verbatim, isn’t he?” Scar sighed.<br/>
Mei laughed. “Oh, definitely. …what’s the other one for?”<br/>
Scar dipped a finger in an abandoned punch glass to draw broad strokes on the fabric scrap. “This one is a blessing of marriage for newlyweds. I’m sure you can guess who the intended recipients are.”<br/>
“How does it work? Do they hold it like the other one?” Mei kept her eyes on the fabric, watching intently.</p><p>“No, this one you bury in front of your house. If it’s on the left side of the door, you ask Ishvala for a long and happy marriage. If it’s on the right, it asks for a fruitful marriage. If it’s in front of the door, it asks for Ishvala to decide what you’re deserving of.”<br/>
“Seems like you know more about this than the other one.”<br/>
Scar shot her a look, but she smiled back innocently. “…usually the mother of the expecting mother will make a charm for her. This one, friends or family can make it. In homes passed down from generation to generation, it is said that there is a quilt in Ishvala’s embrace.”</p><p>“Will you make me one for my wedding?” Mei asked.<br/>
“Of course. For you, I would sew a real one. With silk.” Scar said gruffly.<br/>
Mei beamed at him. “Thank you, Baba.”<br/>
“Hmmph. Don’t thank me yet. I can sew marginally well, but I’m not too good with patterns and needles. My sis…” He trailed off.</p><p>“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Mei said softly.<br/>
Scar glared down at the scrap of fabric. “I don’t.”<br/>
“…like… your brother?”<br/>
“No! No. My brother still lives on in my heart. My sister is dead to me.”</p><p>“What happened?”<br/>
And because he’d only tell her, no one else, Scar muttered, “She ran off with an Amestrian soldier in 1903. She was only about a year or two older than me. At first we were terrified, we thought she’d been <em>taken</em> for… she wasn’t taken by anyone but herself. A friend of the family saw her a week later in East City, smiling and laughing with her new husband in public, dressed like a rich Amestrian. She turned her back on us. On Ishvala. On <em>Ishval</em>. You will not speak a word of this to anyone.”</p><p>Mei mimed zipping her lips. “So… which side of the door did your parents bury it on?”<br/>
“The right.” Scar relaxed a bit. Talking about those that he still loved was good, it helped keep their souls warm in Ishvala’s heart. “They were so proud of us, and they thought… they wanted to make sure they had children, since they were worried that Ummi might not be able to. My aunt was nearly barren, you see.” Scar said, feeling very much like an old woman gossiping at market.<br/>
“Maybe your aunt and her husband just didn’t want children.” Mei huffed.</p><p>Scar paused. “I had never thought of that.”<br/>
Mei eyed him. “Baba, you know there are ways to do things without getting pregnant, right?”<br/>
“Wh—that—how do <em>you</em> know about that?!” Scar demanded. “Has that boy done things to you?!”<br/>
“It’s not a big deal! And Alphonse is a <em>gentleman</em>, thank you very much!” Mei hissed, spots of colour appearing in her cheeks. “If you must know, Winry and Lan Fan took me aside and told me about it. Women’s secrets, they said.”<br/>
“Mrs. Elric should have taken her own advice.” Scar snorted.</p><p>Mei let out an unimpressed huff. “It’s not Winry’s fault that Ed’s like that.”<br/>
“Oh thank Ishvala, I thought I was the only one who noticed.”<br/>
“Baba, <em>everyone</em> noticed.” Mei clucked.<br/>
They watched the Elric boy be more or less held captive by 1) the sister in law wanting actual company in her corner of protection and 2) the brother who wanted to know Scar’s intentions. Which—it was fair, Scar supposed. He had caused the Rockbell girl to be upset before, and the Elric not-alchemist was protective at the best of times. (He was honestly surprised that the wife hadn’t come to the wedding wrapped in layers of gauze like a Xerxeian mummy.)</p><p>Mei eventually left to free her <em>prospective suitor</em>—alright, he wasn’t actually her father, but he’d still appreciate a formal announcement of the young man’s intentions—and Scar returned to the scary sacrifice woman. It was one thing to present a newlywed couple with a charm, another entirely to present them with a stained napkin. Correction—a stained napkin <em>scrap</em>.</p><p>The sacrifice woman was nice enough to do for that charm as the Elric Pinocchio-turned-into-a-real-boy had done for the other. She was not nice enough to ferry it over herself. It was under threat of her enormous husband carrying him over like a baby that Scar relented and walked purposefully (he did <em>not</em> shamefully slink) over to the couple.</p><p>“Hello.” The Hawk’s Eye said.<br/>
“Hello.” Scar replied stiffly. “Congratulations on your marriage.”<br/>
“I hope you don’t mind if we don’t talk about politics right now.” The Flame Alchemist gave a huge grin. “My <em>wife</em> said no shop talk at the wedding. I can’t say no to my <em>wife</em>, now can I?”<br/>
“I am a monk.” Scar felt it prudent to remind him.</p><p>“Don’t worry, my <em>wife</em> and I know. I was saying to my <em>wife</em> that maybe weddings were a place to find someone, but my <em>wife</em> said that I shouldn’t try to match make. And then I told my <em>wife</em> that I didn’t need matches.” The Flame Alchemist clearly very much wanted to laugh at his own joke, which was a far cry from the last time Scar had been this physically close to him or the Hawk’s Eye.</p><p>“Did he hit his head?” Scar asked the Hawk’s Eye, who he had always regarded as the more sensible of the two.<br/>
She gave a small smile. “No, he just really likes saying that I’m his <em>wife</em> now. It’s been a long time coming. …Major Miles already gave us your regards, by the way. You’re not obligated to talk to us.”</p><p>Scar glanced around the room. The sacrifice woman was watching him intently, as was Marcoh, as was Mei and her collection of Elrics. As were Miles and the General.<br/>
“I doubt that.” Scar said drily.<br/>
“Thank you for coming.” The Hawk’s Eye said. “We’d still be in the tunnels underneath the city if you hadn’t been there.”<br/>
Scar scoffed. “No, you would have been fine. The Elric boy was there. You were there. I didn’t do anything.”</p><p>The Flame Alchemist coughed. “I… thank you, though. Really.”<br/>
“Don’t mention it.” Scar thrust the charm into the Hawk’s Eye’s hands. “This is an Ishvalan good luck marriage charm. Bury it in front of your house. Left for long and happy marriage, right for fruitful, in front of the door for Ishvala to decide. Also, I ruined some of your napkins. Sorry. Congratulations.”</p><p>“Wait.” The Flame Alchemist said, as Scar turned away.<br/>
Scar slowly turned back.<br/>
“Um… thank you.” The Flame Alchemist rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, and looked at the Hawk’s Eye.<br/>
She held the charm close. “Are you… sure this is okay?”</p><p>“Why wouldn’t it be? It’s not a bomb.” Scar growled.<br/>
The Hawk’s Eye shook her head. “No, because we’re not Ishvalan. Because-because of what we did.”<br/>
Scar let out a long sigh. “This… isn’t about that. Ishvala is a god of love—love for humanity, love for your people, letting yourself love again in every way possible. And this… this is an act of kindness. We’ve all done things, but this… Ishvala would have—<em>has</em> already forgiven you. So… you deserve a charm, just like all other newlyweds. So Amestris and Ishval can become good again, and the quilt of love—I’m not explaining this properly. Okay, let me start over. This is not because of who you are, or who I am. This is about today. Enjoy it.”</p><p>“Does that mean you forgive us?” The Flame Alchemist asked hesitantly.<br/>
Scar crossed his arms. “I don’t know. I don’t think about you two that often to consider forgiving you or not. But… you’re not enemies, either. I don’t care about your political ambitions, or… whatever. But you two should—I mean, I’d <em>like</em> for you two to live for the people you killed. Let someone have a happy, good life. Live the lives they should have had… look, I’m not an orator. But it’s what I’m trying to do while I make amends. While I try to be better.”</p><p>He looked away, because he was very afraid that the Hawk’s Eye was going to start thanking him again, or the Flame Alchemist was going to start trying to hug him or something.<br/>
Thankfully, Miles had seen his defensive posture and come running. “Yes, we all want Ishval to move forward!” He said loudly. “I’m so glad that we’re all working together!” Miles then started trying to steer Scar away from the conflict that he thought was brewing.</p><p>Scar let him. When they were far enough away, Scar said, “Major? Thank you for making me come to this.”<br/>
“Don’t make me regret it, Master Ini-Herit.” Miles said, but he was smiling slightly.<br/>
Scar cleared his throat. “Actually, you can call me Jumoke. If you want.”<br/>
Miles watched him. “Is that your new name?”</p><p>“…no, it’s the name I was given at birth.” Scar admitted. “You’re right, I should pick a new one—”<br/>
“I like that you’re going back to your old name.” Miles interrupted. “It’s a sign of growth. I’ll call you Jumoke, but only if you call me Bakari.”<br/>
Scar looked up sharply, and Miles gave a rare full smile.<br/>
And at that moment, Scar felt at peace with the world. Behind them, people danced to lively tunes and enjoyed themselves, and it all felt right. A moment of happiness in a life of turmoil.</p>
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